


Good morning, sunshine!

by twisted_dendrites



Category: Homestuck
Genre: M/M, johnkat - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-08
Updated: 2012-06-08
Packaged: 2017-11-07 07:31:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/428489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twisted_dendrites/pseuds/twisted_dendrites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Karkat tries to resist being seduced.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Good morning, sunshine!

**Author's Note:**

> So, I was going to work on something else...and then this happened. It's just a Johnkat oneshot. Title is for pure ironic purposes.  
> My God, I love them so much <3

Sometimes Karkat would wake up to John leafing his fingers through the dark coarse hair. Immediately as John saw those golden eyes open, he would grin wickedly. Then Karkat's whole body would tense because he knew that look all too well, and it always turned into a contest to see which of them was more stubborn.

John would instantly rake his fingers from past the scalp to the visible skin of Karkat's face, stimulating every damn nerve touched by the stupid pink human flesh. It was possibly the most difficult thing in the world to ignore, to such an extent that it was almost painful for Karkat to turn his back to John and curl up in a tight ball. These moments where Karkat's resolve met with his physical hunger always made his insides shred themselves up until he couldn't tell what part of him was fighting the other. 

Behind the gray-skinned mass of cognitive dissonance, John would scoff at the front Karkat never seemed to give up. In actuality though, John never minded much because every time Karkat finally acquiesced it felt like a victory. The conquest was something he'd never get tired of, just as Karkat never could get past showing the pretext that he didn't want any part of this. John would zigzag his fingers down Karkat's back, increasing in intensity until he knew he troll beneath his hands had changed states from Karkat to a mass of gray mush that was clumping to his erratic tracing. It was at this point Karkat would give one last attempt to save face by muttering, "Get the fuck off me," or something similarly unbelievable. 

John would pretend to comply, removing himself entirely from the warm ash, and without even bothering to wipe the smirk off his face, he'd get up and cross the room to the dresser. The tiny smug smile was just enough to make Karkat absolutely livid because it was a sign that John knew how false his resistance was. He'd strangle his knees into his chest and sink his nails into his legs until his claws were with rimmed with red. It didn't help at all that John was pretending to change. He'd placed the clothes he'd picked out for the day on top of the dresser, like he'd ever actually get to putting them on sometime soon. 

Karkat futilely wished he could look away, as John, still with that God damn grin stuck to his face, continued to peel off his shirt. He should look away, he should turn his skull a fraction of a centimeter so that John wasn't in his direction line of vision, but there was already enough strain on keeping himself frozen. If he broke his immobility now, Karkat knew it would be directed _towards_ John, who was being a prick and stretching his arms behind his head. Karkat had never found human anatomy worth his time until their first encounter, where he had suddenly acquired enough interest to count every last actin filament making up John's muscle fibers. 

John would remove his pajama pants at such a slow rate it probably looked like it was the first time he'd ever removed pants from his own body. However, it was a strategic slowness. Not only could a gallon of water have evaporated in the time it took for his waistband to finally slip over his ankles, but it was also just enough of a lapse to dissolve the rest of Karkat's recalcitrance. Denying John wasn't something Karkat could commit to anymore, causing him to switch tactics. He wouldn't present this as a gradual disintegration of his will because they both had known from since Karkat had opened his eyes where this was headed. It was also ample time for Karkat to uncurl himself and sit up, having combed through and tamped down the last of his conflicting thoughts. Well of course he'd wanted this all along, and he wasn't going to have it any other way.

As he turned back to face the bed, John's complacency would fade, leaving behind a genuine curve in his lips. He'd ask something like, "What do you want for breakfast?" as if they both didn't expect Karkat's response to be, "You."


End file.
